Geared towards the enactment of customary reflexes, there is a tendency to learn ceaseless retrieval by modes of traction. The captivated are tremulous because when they get back their replacement it is a given order.
Commandments don't come into it. The spider of conscience has woven its perfect insulation, still leaking out all over the truck. Sentience is bliss, but whether asleep or awake, s/he is not always sentient.
New excrement is produced stimulating the transduction of the interpretative cycles. The scapegoat escapes the planetary city the spider of conscience built. Signals and symbols multiply unceasingly. Transduction of interpretative cycles is the revealed process.
Your backside is raised as vengeance against the decor.
As far as knowledge goes (or conscious comprehension), we have disgraced the output or input of its prescriptions to the degree at which questions as to whether or not knowledge can be wisdom gained or understanding made accessible are done away with, utterly.
There is a reason why this is desirable. There is an impostor in the house of the Imperiatrix!